


Slings and Scarabs

by tinydooms



Category: The Mummy (1999), The Mummy Series
Genre: Aftermath, Brother-Sister Friendship, F/M, Friendship, Gen, patching up wounds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:54:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23882611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinydooms/pseuds/tinydooms
Summary: The moon was high in the sky when the trio of weary adventurers finally reached the little oasis ten miles from Hamunaptra and stopped for the night. Jonathan shook himself out of a doze; beastly easy to fall asleep on camelback, but he was a little shocked at how easily sleep had come, considering how little he had felt like sleeping the past few days. He looked over at Evie and O’Connell (should he call him Rick now?). They looked awfully comfortable on their camel. On closer inspection, Jonathan realized that Evie had fallen asleep with her head on O’Connell’s shoulder. Rick met his eyes with a rueful look.
Relationships: Evy Carnahan O'Connell/Rick O'Connell
Comments: 17
Kudos: 90





	Slings and Scarabs

**Slings and Scarabs**

_An oasis in the Egyptian desert, October 1922_

The moon was high in the sky when the trio of weary adventurers finally reached the little oasis ten miles from Hamunaptra and stopped for the night. Jonathan shook himself out of a doze; it was beastly easy to fall asleep on camelback, but he was a little shocked at how easily sleep had come, considering how little he had felt like sleeping the past few days. He looked over at Evie and O’Connell (should he call him Rick now?). They looked awfully comfortable on their camel. On closer inspection, Jonathan realized that Evie had fallen asleep with her head on O’Connell’s shoulder. Rick met his eyes with a rueful look.

“Help?” 

“Just poke her; she’ll come to,” Jonathan replied, sliding to the ground. He took O’Connell’s reins in hand. “Come on, Evie! Wake up!”

Evie did wake up, grumbling, and they set about making up camp. The camels were fully loaded up, which was a relief if a surprise. When, Jonathan wondered, had the mummy and his squirrelly little toady managed to get their hands on camels and camping supplies? 

“Uh,” O’Connell said, looking into one of the saddlebags. He dropped the flap and looked around at them. “Well, I have good news and bad news.”

“Good news first,” Jonathan said. 

“Well,” O’Connell said again, pulling a short golden scepter out of the bag, “looks like Beni left us with the wealth of Egypt.”

That was enough to shake even Evie out of her sleepiness; she crowded in beside Jonathan to look in the saddlebags. All but two were filled to bursting with artifacts. The two that didn’t contained jerky, stale bread, some apples, and a couple of water bottles. There was only one blanket. 

“Lovely,” Jonathan said, focusing on the positive. “I approve of this turn of events.”

Rick began to laugh. “You know what? So do I.”

That may have been because Evie was practically vibrating with archaeological fervour, her face incandescent in the moonlight. Jonathan caught Rick’s eye and grinned. 

“Save it for morning, old mum,” he said, tossing her the blanket. “Let’s see if we can’t scrounge up some firewood. Still have those matches, O’Connell?”

It was as he was building the fire that Evie noticed how much Jonathan was favoring his left arm. She reached out and touched him with gentle fingers. 

“What happened there?”

“Oh, you know,” Jonathan said, reddening, “I had a run-in with a nasty little bug. Nothing important.”

“A scarab?” Evie cried. “Jonathan!”

“It was only one,” he said, pulling his arm away. “O’Connell shot it.”

“ _Shot_ it!” 

“Not out of my arm. He got it with a knife first.”

“A _knife_?”

And that was how Jonathan found himself with his shirt open and his arm removed from its sleeve, having the two wounds cleaned with water boiled in a three thousand year old pot. Evie tutted over him, dabbing lightly at the incision in Jonathan’s palm, the silver pucker of stretched skin all the way up the arm to the shoulder, the neat knife wound where Rick had scooped the scarab out before it could beetle in deeper. It looked ugly, Jonathan had to admit, and it was beginning to hurt abominably. Likely the shock of it all was wearing off. Rick looked on, shaking his head. 

“Why didn’t you say anything earlier?”

Jonathan rolled his eyes. “Like what? ‘Oh chaps, my arm hurts from the flesh-eating bug I picked up; let’s stop fighting sentient mummies so that I can cry a bit’? Ardeth Bey gave me a bandage; that’s all I needed.”

Rick grinned. “Well, when you put it like that.”

“What you need is a sling,” Evelyn said, casting her eyes about. “For heaven’s sake, you two. Are there any other wounds that you’ve been hiding from me?”

She glared at Rick and Jonathan in turn. They looked at each other and back at her, shaking their heads. 

“Are you _sure_?” Evie turned the full power of her librarian glare on them; both men shifted. “Because if I find that you’re hiding any manageable hurts from me because of manly pride I’ll--”

“I’ve only got bruises,” Rick said, holding his hands up. 

“Bruises and this,” Jonathan said, gesturing at his arm. “Really, Evie. Everything’s fine.”

“Yeah, fine,” Rick agreed. “Look, it’s been a long day and we’re all tired. Why don’t you take that blanket and settle down?”

That turned the focus onto a different kind of problem. The night was rapidly cooling and they had only the one blanket and the terribly smelly saddle cloths from the camels. In the end the only sensible solution was for the three of them to bed down together on the saddle cloths, the one blanket stretched over the three of them. Without needing to discuss it, Rick and Jonathan put Evie in the middle. She had lost her cardigan somewhere in Hamunaptra and needed all of the warmth she could get. That she would be cuddled up against Rick O’Connell didn’t worry Jonathan much. Rick was a gentleman, and he had it bad for Evie. He would behave himself. 

“Don’t lie on that arm, Jonathan,” Evie said as they settled down. “You’ll hurt it more.”

“How could I lie on it? You’ve bandaged it so securely I can’t even roll over,” he replied. 

“Do you two always bicker?” Rick asked, amusement in his voice.

“Yes,” they replied. 

“Evie exercises her sisterly right to nag me,” Jonathan added. 

“And you exercise your brotherly right to drive me wild,” Evie replied. 

“Here’s an idea,” Rick said, the laughter still in his voice. “Why don’t you both exercise your right to go to sleep?”

They quieted down, snug under the single blanket. The night was cold, but somehow being together, knowing that Imhotep was gone, defeated, and that they were safe, made it all bearable. Jonathan looked over at Evie; she lay with her back to Rick, who was already asleep, head cushioned on his arms. 

“I’m glad you’re safe, old mum,” he whispered, and she smiled. 

“Me, too. I mean that you weren’t eaten by scarabs.”

“It’ll teach me not to have such magpie fingers.”

Evie grinned. “It will not.”

“Probably not.”

“Do you think Rick’s really unhurt?”

“Make him see a doctor back in Cairo,” Jonathan whispered. “He’s probably busted a rib or two and not wanting to say anything.” He paused, then added, “He’s a good bloke, Evie.”

“I know.” She squeezed his arm. “And so are you.”

“Thanks, old mum.”

She fell asleep then, out like a light, and Jonathan felt a surge of fondness for her. He didn’t know what he would do without Evie, bright, bold, clumsy Evie. Rick, too, for that matter; it was really due to his quick-thinking that Jonathan was still alive. Well, they were a motley little family, but they would do. They would do. 

Author's Note: This was a prompt ask on Tumblr. If you want to send me a prompt, please feel free to do so!


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